Saving Me
by completetherainbow
Summary: While enjoying a little shore leave on a Star Base planet, Spock is save from an almost accidental death. However, a small side affect causes him to both lose his mind and have to come to terms with the Vulcan he is and the Man he wants to be. Kirk/Spock
1. Chapter 1

**Title: Saving Me**

**Pairing: Spock/Kirk, side Uhura/Scotty**

**Warnings: Slash, mano-a-mano, and prolly some far fetched ideas.....**

AN: So, I listened to the song Saving Me by Nickelback today, and this really just popped into my head. It only follows the video kinda semi, because Kirk and Spock aren't together in the beginning. In fact, the only thing that follows the video, to the quote unquote "t" is the first chapter. After that, it is essentially my story.....

* * *

Spock and Kirk turned another corner on the street of Compass IX. The planet was a Star Base planet, thriving on the constant arriving Star Fleet members, the always changing species of people, and its very own indigenous culture. More and more people smiled and said hello to them as they walked passes, and they had to admit, the planet was welcoming.

"Alright," Jim said, turning to his companion, "I gotta take a leak."

"Can it not wait until we have found the shoppe that I had wanted to visit?" Spock said, raising an eyebrow and the now jumping Kirk.

"I'm sorry, Spock, it can't." He turned, noticed what appeared to be a gas station, and pointed, "I'll only be a few minutes, why don't you go and I'll meet up with you!"

Spock started to shake his head, "That is not necessary, Captain," he said, but was interrupted.

"You've got your communicator, don't you?" Jim said, already starting off. "Use it! I'll meet you in ten minutes at the corner next to the shoppe!" He shouted, running into the store as Spock closed his eyes momentarily to control his urge to sigh.

* * *

He entered the shoppe roughly forty-five seconds later and was elated. The shoppe held various plants and herbs which would be exceedingly helpful in the science lab aboard the Enterprise. After purchasing the correct ingredients, he accepted the bag and stepped outside to the corner. After waiting for six point three minutes amidst the flow of people walking, he pulled out his communicator and dialed Kirk.

"Spock, where the hell are you?" came Jim's voice.

"At the agreed corner, next to the shoppe. What is your location?" Spock replied.

"I'm there too, but I don't see you!" Jim paused, "The shoppe is called Euphoria, right?"

"Negative, Captain. The shoppe is called AgriCulture." Spock said, not bothering to comment on how the two names were nothing alike to the Captain.

"Ah, shit. I'm four blocks south. Can you meet me here, though, cause there is this really hot chick-" Kirk started, but was cut off by Spock.

"Understood, Captain," he said, as he began to walk across the street.

Suddenly, he was pulled back from an oncoming hovercraft that would have easily hit and killed him. He felt his heart shudder in his side, and his breath caught in his throat. That was extremely close as far as almost dying came. He turned to thank the person who had grabbed him, but found no person next to him. Instead, the people around him kept shuffling past him.

However, instead of just seeing people, he also saw things above their heads. They were numbers. Bright red numbers. All appeared to be counting down to something. He took note that all had different variations of numbers. Slightly older people had lower numbers, while most children had extremely high numbers.

Raising an eyebrow, he walked forward, glancing at the people around him. Every being around him had the numbers. He paused infront of someone, a person who was a member of Star Fleet, and currently stationed on the Enterprise.

"Commander Spock," the woman said, nodding to him. She was petite, her hair pulled into a bun. He stopped her, and waved his hand through the numbers. They smoked, disappearing momentarily before returning back to counting down. He frowned slightly, nodding to her before walking again.

What did these numbers mean?


	2. Chapter 2

**Title: Saving Me**

**Pairing: Spock/Kirk, side Uhura/Scotty**

**Warnings: Slash, mano-a-mano, and prolly some far fetched ideas....**

AN: So, chapter two is now here, and I really like the way it's turned out. This was really difficult and fun to write, because I was thinking about how would someone who was emotionless and logical react to this sorta situation.... honestly I had not clue. So, I had to watch a few TOS episodes to get some inspiration. It didn't help, I just ended up watching Star Trek TOS and 2009 all over again.....

Please READ AND REVIEW!

* * *

_**Prison gates won't open up for me**_

_**On these hands and knees I'm falling**_

_**Oh, I reach for you**_

"There you are," Kirk said, turning to him. Spock merely glanced up to his Captain, before mentally grimacing. He too wore the numbers above his head. "You ready to beam up? Did you get what.... you... needed?" Kirk finally took notice of Spock's particularly stiff expression and posture.

"Spock?" Kirk asked, reaching an arm out to his shoulder.

Spock jumped at the contact, forcing Kirk to break away.

"Whoa, slow down there!" Kirk said, moving away, "Spock? What's wrong?"

Instead of responding to his questions, Spock shook his head, "Yes, Captain, I'm ready to beam aboard."

The Captain started to say something, but after taking a hard look from his first officer, and noticing the discomfort in his eyes, he simply pulled out his communicator. "Kirk to Enterprise."

"Enterprise here," came the heavily accented voice of Scotty, "Yes Captain?"

Jim hesitated, glancing to Spock, "Uh..." Spock glanced up to Kirk, his eyes silently questioning, "Beam us up, Scotty."

The familiar tingling with energizing began to swarm withing them, and within seconds, they found themselves aboard the USS Enterprise. The ship, that for the last year, they called home.

Without a word, Spock turned to the door and walked out of the room. He vaguely heard his Captain calling after him, though he failed to listen, or turn around for that matter. He shot looks to his crew members, each with their numbers above their heads, all counting down. But to what, he couldn't figure out. He settled his eyes to the floor, at the least the floor didn't have numbers on it.

"Spock," Kirk panted, obviously having ran after him, "wait, come on, please. What happened?"

Spock didn't immediately answer, almost unsure of how to do it. What could he tell Kirk that wouldn't make him sound as if he were becoming mentally incapacitated? Certainly he could speak of the near miss, or lack there of, but what of the numbers that he had begun seeing? If he even mentioned the numbers in the slightest, Kirk would demand that he go to medical bay, get tested on by McCoy, and be put upon medical leave until both men were satisfied.

No, he couldn't speak of the numbers. But, he still had to give Kirk an explanation as to why he was being more... indifferent... than usual. "Captain, shortly after our conversation via communicator ended... there was an... incident." He trailed.

Kirk frowned. "What kind of incident? What happened?"

"Just as I ended the conversation, I began to walk across the street towards your location, when suddenly I was pulled back upon the sidewalk." He paused, hoping what he was about to say next would go over smoothly, "A hovercraft flew by just were I was about to step."

Kirk thought for a mere second before realization hit. He jerked forward slightly, "Wait, you were almost killed by a hovercraft?" Kirk raised his hand to his first, glancing him up and down, obviously searching for injuries. "Why didn't you say anything? You must have been scared shitless, no wonder you're being more unemotional than normal. Lets go to Bones and ge-"

Spock shook his head, "That isn't necessary Captain, I am physically unharmed just, as the Terran saying goes, 'a little shook up'. Nearly dying, again, but by something as benign as not looking both ways before crossing the street, was a bit..." He searched for the appropriate words, "nerve wracking."

Jim looked at him up and down suspiciously, before reluctantly nodding. "Well, alright, but maybe you should take a few days off."

"Again, not necessary, but thank you for the consideration." He glanced up to Kirks head, seeing the numbers again. The constant counting down to something was nagging him. "Captain," he started, moving towards Kirk, "if I may," he gingerly grasped Kirks shoulder, holding him in place, before reaching up and waving his hand through the numbers. They disappeared, like before, in a puff of smoke, before reappearing again.

Kirk didn't move, merely watched him a curious look on his face. He watched as Spock closed his eyes, as if disappointed, almost sighing, and retreating back to a professional distance. He couldn't believe that this was his mate. He remembered the meeting with Spock Prime, the mind meld still wreaking havoc on his subconscious to do something, anything, to initiate some form of bond with Spock. He had tried several times to talk to Spock about something, especially after the break up with Uhura, but it never seemed to come out right. So Kirk settled for a simple friendship, for now, until they could begin to trust each other, perhaps, just a bit more.

"Forgive me, Captain, I am simply...." Spock looked away for a moment, before glancing back up to his Captain, nodding, and walking toward the bridge.

* * *

Spock looked around to his crew mates, wishing that the numbers would disappear, but knowing they wouldn't. He instead opted to stare accusingly at the science station control panel. Uhura kept sneaking glances to him, her eyes frowned with worry, but he ignored her. Nothing was going to help him right now.

"_Spock_."

He turned to face the bridge. "Yes, Captain?"

Kirk, who had been facing the helm, turned to him. "Huh?"

Quirking an eyebrow, Spock continued, "You desired my attention Captain."

Kirk frowned, "Uh... no I didn't."

Tilting his head to the side, Spock glanced at the rest of the bridge, who was staring at him, "Captain, you just said my name."

"Spock," Uhura said, forcing him to turn to her, "no one has said your name."

He opened his mouth to respond. "_Spock._"

He looked up, jerking to see who had been saying his name, but only saw the crew with their numbers.

"I-I," Spock started.

"_Spock!_" The voice shouted to him. He rose to his feet so quickly, the entire crew jumped in surprise.

"What?" He shouted, looking around, searching for somebody, anybody, who had said his name. Kirk stood, calmly raising his hands.

"Okay, Spock, you need to calm down." He began to slowly make his way to his first, his palms out, almost in surrender. "You just, need to tell me whats wrong. What's happening to you?"

"_Spock!_"

Spock jerked at the sound, "There! Captain, can't you hear it? Someone is calling my name." He turned back to his Captain, seeing the worried and confused look on his face, he realized that no, Kirk couldn't hear it. None of the crew could. Judging by the looks on their faces, they were just as concerned as the Captain, though, the Captain also had another look on his face. One that Spock could not decipher. But, he heard the voice shout his name again, and again. "Captain, I think I may take your advice and remove myself from the bridge to recuperate from the experience on shore leave." He turned to leave.

"Okay, Spock," Kirk nodded, "You take as long as you need. And, call if you need... any...thing." But Spock was already gone.


	3. Chapter 3

**Title: Saving Me**

**Pairing: Spock/Kirk, side Uhura/Scotty**

**Warnings: Slash, mano-a-mano, and prolly some far fetched ideas.....**

AN: So, I know this one was fast, and rather unexpected, but it's kinda like a filler chapter. Its only rhyme and reason is to set up the next chapter. Literally. I don't know when I'll have the next chapter up, mostly cuz I work and junk, but I have essentially the whole day off. So you never know! I really like getting review, they really motivate a person. Please REVIEW. It's quite necessary for authors to survive!

* * *

**_I'm terrified of these four walls_**

_**These iron bars can't hold my soul **_

_**And all I need is you**_

Spock didn't leave his room for the rest of the day, opting to instead meditate. He hoped what ever had happened to him could be resolved through it.

After roughly four hours of sitting and attempting to empty his mind, he came up with nothing. The voice had stopped calling out to him, but he doubted that the numbers had gone away. So, he then began to research the phenomenon. He searched numbers above the heads of people. People seeing numbers above the heads of people. Numbers counting down, above the heads of people.

But nothing. Nothing could explain any of this. Not the voice, not the numbers.... nothing. Glancing at the time, he noted that he had been searching and researching for five and a half hours. He rose, changing from his uniform to his regulation sleep ware. He felt exhaustion hit him the moment his head hit the pillow, and succumbed to sleep.

The first thing he noticed when he opened his eyes, was that he was cold. This in its self was odd, for he knew that his personal rooms were heated to the common and comfortable temperature that he usually experienced on Vulcan. He then noticed it was raining. He stood, on a corner of what appeared to be a Terran street corner, in the rain. People were walking, passing by him, without any notice.

'I appear to be dreaming of Earth,' he said to himself. Spock looked to the people around him, noticing their numbers, all counting down. The wind picked up, causing a shiver to run through him, and the rain to beat down on him just a bit harder.

Suddenly, there was no more rain, he looked around and noticed that he was under an umbrella. He looked down to see a human woman holding said umbrella, waiting to cross the street. Her hair was short, to her chin, black and was flipped out slightly. She was short, shorter than most women of standard Earth, but she wore black boots. Her slacks were also black, and she wore a white shirt, black vest, and black trench coat.

She paid him no mind as she waited for the light to turn, so he just assumed that she couldn't see him, as the other people couldn't. She sighed, tapping her foot, and as if on command, the light turned. She began to walk away, taking the umbrella with her.

He felt the cold wind and rain again, and turned attempting to find a shelter.

"Spock," a familiar voice sounded. He turned to see the same woman with the umbrella standing in the middle of the street. "Aren't you coming?"

He glanced around, to the other people. None of them noticed him, nor paid him any mind, so he walked forward to the safety of the umbrella.

"Thank you," he muttered politely when he had reached her side.

She smiled slightly, "Oh, don't thank me yet. You're about to hate me."

He frowned to her, tilting his head, before commenting, "You were the one calling me on the bridge."

"Yes," she said, "I was." They reached the other side of the street, and turned left to walk. "I was hoping you wouldn't react as you did, but the outcome was essentially the same. You took the time off, that's all I can really ask for."

"What do you want?" he asked, glancing at her. "Who are you?"

She nodded, "The first question can be answered by the second; I am Death."

Spock stopped in his tracks, the woman stopped with him, a small smile playing on her lips. "I beg your pardon?"

"I am Death, Spock," she said, "and I am here to guide you."


	4. Chapter 4

_**Title: Saving Me**_

**Pairing: Spock/Kirk, side Uhura/Scotty**

**Warnings: Slash, mano-a-mano, and prolly some far fetched ideas.....**

AN: Okay, so here is the next chapter. I hope you like it. I've worked on it allllll day! Please note, that you may not believe in most of the things in this chapter, it is slightly far fetched. However, a lot of the ATG stuff is accurate, to a point. Not he was not in love with his best friends girl. I just added a little bit of my stuff to the mix. Wiki it people.

* * *

_**Come, please, I'm calling**_

_**Oh, I scream for you**_

_**Hurry, I'm falling**_

Spock stared at the woman his eyes staring in disbelief.

"Do you honestly expect me to believe you?" He asked.

She nodded in a way that told him she expected his response. She turned back to the street and kept walking. Not wanting to stand in the rain again, he had no choice but to follow her.

"Spock, I know that this is very far fetched, but it's true. I am Death." She stepped over a piece of debris, "You can call me Enma. But my name isn't the reason why you're here, is it?"

He turned to her, assessing her thoroughly, only to realize... she didn't have numbers above her head.

"Ah, you've finally noticed." She swept her hand above her, "No numbers. Yeah, that's kinda hard for someone like me." Enma glanced at him. "You have no clue what I'm talking about, do you?"

He shook his head. She sighed, "Do you have any other questions for me, Spock?"

"Do you really mean for me to accept that you are a physical manifestation of an abstract thought?" He stated, quietly.

Enma rolled her eyes, "How is death an abstract thought? It truly does exist. People die, Spock! They do. You will, your mother did-"

"Do not speak of her as if you knew anything on the situation." He warned, growling out his words.

"Spock," she said, stopping again, "I do know about the situation. I should, I'm the one who took her soul."

Spock was silent after that. Enma... Death... this woman took his mothers soul? Where? What did she mean? And why was Spock starting to believe this wasn't a dream?

"On that day... I took the soul of every living thing on Vulcan." She licked her lips. "Including your mothers."

"...Why?" Spock asked, his eyes raising to her startling green ones. "Why did you take hers?"

She looked him square in the eye, "Because her time was up." Enma turned, walking on, "Walk with me, you silly little Vulcan."

They continued down the street, not noticing where they were going. Spock was attempting to wrap his mind around the whole situation. He was walking with Death, a woman who called herself Enma. What was an Enma? He glanced at his walking companion, taking in her human appearance. She didn't look like anything special, but then, what was he expecting? A scythe? A long black hooded robe?

"Why are you here?" He asked, attempting take advantage of probably being the only person in existence to ever have a living conversation with Death.

"I told you, I'm here to guide you." Came her response.

"But, you're Death." He said. Enma looked at him as if to say 'so?'. "Do you not have lives you should be... taking?"

Enma looked at him with wide eyes before erupting into a fit of giggles. "Spock," she wheezed out, "I don't go around killing people."

When Spock looked at her as if she'd grown two heads, she conceded. "Okay, it may seem like I do, but I've never killed anybody in my whole entire afterlife!" She smiled at him. "Spock, when its time for people to die, I simply touch them and wait for what ever is going to kill them to do it. It may take a few minutes, but when they are finally dead, I then lead them on to where ever it is they belong."

Spock thought for a moment, "Heaven or hell, as my mother called it."

Enma nodded thoughtfully, "If that is where they believe they belong, then, yes, I suppose. However, your afterlife usually consists of what it is you truly believe in. If you believe in hell, and that you deserve to go there, then that is where you will go. The same goes for heaven."

Spock frowned, "So, there is a heaven and hell?"

Enma shook her head, "That's not for me to tell you, Spock, it's something all mortals must come to terms with, before they die." She glanced at him, "No, I won't tell you if there is a God or not."

His mouth snapped shut. He wasn't going to ask how she knew that was going to be his next question. He knew the stories of God from his mother. He didn't know if she truly believed in a spiritual being, but she did press the matter of attempting to teach him Earth customs. He knew of the Christian and Jewish form of God, the Middle Easterner's Allah, and of Buddha from the Asian cultures. He knew of the ancient Egyptians Gods, and of the Roman and Greek beliefs. He knew of all of this. Spock even knew of several Gods pertaining to other cultures outside of Earth.

The Romluan's, who shared many of their beliefs with Vulcans. The Klingons, the Orions, and many more. One thing all worlds appeared to have in common, no matter how they tried to deny it, was that of the existence of Death. Be it a creature of evil, or simply a creature of nature, it existed. And it existed for one reason: to allow all things to die.

"So, have you stopped taking the souls of others simply to talk with me?" Spock asked.

"No, I can't take the souls of the dead if there is no dead, Spock." Enma said, glancing at him. "I'm not the universe's Death, Spock. Just the Enterprise's. And those that it directly effects."

Spock frowned at her words, not truly understanding what she meant. When he asked for her to elaborate, she said, "I've been in your life, since the day you were born, Spock. The first time you almost died. You're mother was having a particularly difficult labor, you're big brain proved to be a bit much for her, I suppose." She smiled, raising her free hand to poke his forehead. Her fingers were strangely warm, considering her position in life... death... and he was almost shocked when it gave a slight jolt of electricity to him. "Anyway, I had come to you, to observe the birth, because your name was blinking on and off my list. But, you both pulled through just fine."

He couldn't help but wonder, "If you are only Death to the Enterprise, that means that there are other Deaths out there." She nodded.

"Spock, one Death just wouldn't cut it. The universe is infinite. Way too big for just little old me. Besides, I haven't been Death that long, compared to the others. Trust me, it makes for an awkward Christmas party..." She stole a glance to Spock, who was frowning extremely hard now. "I was joking. Jeez, you can't make a few jokes as Death..."

"How long have you been Death?" He asked. It was most curious. You could become Death? By choice? Who would want to do that? Enma, obviously, but other would probably not want this job if it entailed... essentially killing people.

She paused, before sighing, "Since 323 BCE."

Spock was silent. She was 2553 years old. Was she born Death, or was she simply made after death?

"I know, I'm an old fart." Enma smiled at him, "I was born in 350 BCE." Correction, she was 2580 years old. "I became Death after my best friend died."

Spock nodded, "You and she were close?"

"Yes, _he_ and I were. His name was Alexander the Great, and I was his personal body guard," she said, stopping at another street corner.

"How is that possible?" Spock asked, frowning in remembrance, "Alexanders personal body guard was Hepheastion."

Enma nodded, "Yes, until the day he died. Hepheastion was my husband. When I died my name was Drypetis." She glanced at him, "Just before Hepheastion died, he made me promise that I would protect Alexander with my life." She smiled, almost woefully, "However, how does one protect from unseen forces?"

"What do you mean?" Spock asked, trying to remember how Alexander was said to have died.

"Typhoid fever is not something you are able to guard against, is it, Spock?" She said, glancing back to him again, "Although, with the technology of today, I suppose anything is possible. But, back then," she shook her head, "nothing. He told me, some ten days before his death, but also two days after his initial illness, that had always cherished me as more than a friends wife. He said that if Hepheastion hadn't claimed me, he would have. I laughed at him, until he pulled me into a kiss. It moved me... and eventually killed me. The fever is contagious," she smirked, "but some how, the earth shattering kiss he gave me was worth the twenty-days of agony."

They were again silent, walking in the rain still, "But, moving on!" She said cheerfully, as if moments before she hadn't been talking about her own death.

"I believe I have another question for you," Spock said, continuing the conversation. "Why am I speaking to you?"

Enma smiled. "Spock, do you know how many times I've come to collect your soul?" He shook his head, "Five." She held up her hand, "the first when you were born," she ticked down her finger, "the second, when you were eight and your classmates attempted to scare you by dangling you from a cliff," another finger went down, "another when you were twelve and you-"

"Yes, I recall that time." Spock interrupted, not wishing to have to relive that memory.

Enma simply nodded, "The fourth when you were on a collision course with the Narada. And finally, today. When I looked at my list to see you on it, then glanced back one more time to see you not. I had to save you, so... I pulled you away. I was the one who pulled you from the line of the hovercraft."

Spock frowned, "Forgive me, but what?" He turned to her, stopping their walking, "You saved my life?"

Enma nodded, glancing around, at anything but him.

"You are the reason I can see these numbers above others heads?" He asked, glaring at her. She nodded again. "What are they? What do they mean?"

Enma thinned her lips defiantly, "I'm afraid I can't tell you that, Spock. It's something you truly must discover on your own." She noticed his anger, "And you will, tomorrow, when they bring in Ensign Rudolf. I promise. But, I can't tell you." She glanced down at her wrist. "You'll find out very soon, Spock." She let go of the umbrella she had been holding, allowing it to fall to the ground. The rain began to pour onto them, leaving them both soaking wet. "But, for now, have a good day." She raised her hands to his shoulder and pushed hard.

Not a millisecond later, Spock woke to the sound of his alarm.

* * *

Enma: The Japanese word for the judge of the Dead.


	5. Chapter 5

_**Title: Saving Me**_

**Pairing: Spock/Kirk, side Uhura/Scotty**

**Warnings: Slash, mano-a-mano, and prolly some far fetched ideas...**

AN: Ugh, this one was kinda difficult to write because fanfiction dot net wouldn't let me post it because I'm pretty sure fanfiction dot net is a betch. (Yeah, do you hear me fanfiction dot net? Put that in your pipe and smoke it!) Anywho, its just sorta eyeopener for Spock. And then the new chapter should be up either Sunday or Monday!

* * *

_**Show me what it's like**_

_**To be the last one standing**_

_**Teach me wrong from right**_

_**And I'll show you what I can be  
**_

Spock began meditating almost immediately. Yes, he was soaking wet, from sweat he was sure. Yes, he had two deep green bruises on his shoulders where he had dreamed Enma had pushed him. But, that had probably happened yesterday, when he had been saved by whom ever had saved him. 'Yes,' he thought, 'that was most likely it.'

He stood, after nearly three hours of attempted meditation, and walked over to the dresser to dress. Donning simple black attire, as he was not on duty, he combed his hair, and made his way to the dining hall. He passed by several people, all with their numbers above their heads, who greeted him. His nod in return was all he could manage.

After gathering his food, he sat at a table.

"Spock!" He heard his Captain say, enthusiastically, before the man sat in front of him.

"James," Spock replied, not looking up.

"What are you doing here?" Jim asked, beginning to eat his beacon.

"I would assume that would be obvious." Spock said, taking another bite of toast.

"I would have thought you would still be in your room, relaxing, or something along those lines," Jim responded, looking him up and down. Noting the dark bags under his seconds eyes, he frowned, "you alright?" He leaned forward when Spock didn't respond. If he didn't know any better, he'd say Spock was zoning. "Anything you need to talk about? You know, Spock, I'm not just your Captain. I'd like to think of us as friends, and, as such, you can tell me anything."

At that last comment, Spock glanced up to him, for what seemed to be the first time since Jim joined him. Spock appeared dazed, and, now that he thought about it, his eyes kept glancing up just above his head.

"Captain..." Spock faltered, "Jim..." he tried, "if I posed a truly abstract idea, would tell me your honest opinion on it?" After the other mans nod, he continued, "Last night, I dreamed that I was on Earth. During a rain, in a city. But, the city did not appear as they do now... more of how they did appear, perhaps, late twentieth century or early twenty-first. A woman spoke to me, unlike any other person. She spoke to me as if she had been with me throughout all of me life. She told me of all the times I had nearly died, she knew of when my mother died, and she spoke of death as if it were... a regular occurrence." How was he going to explain to Jim that he wasn't losing his mind? How was this going to sound? "She told she was death. And that she was there to guide me."

Instead of accusing words of insanity, Jim looked thoughtful, "What did she look like?"

"She had black hair, to her chin, which was flipped out. She was short, but she wore black boots to attempt to compensate. She also wore black slacks, a white shirt with black vest over and a black trench coat. Her eyes were a startling blue, almost the color of your-" Spock caught himself, "your oceans." He finally managed, after a moments hesitation. He couldn't let his Captain know that he thought of him in any capacity other than professional. "She also didn't have the numbers above her head." He added, thoughtfully.

Jim frowned, "What numbers?"

Spock looked up, "The numbers that every other person in the dream had." He covered quickly. Spock began to believe that he needed to start thinking harder, before he exposed something that might get him discharged.

"The people had numbers above their heads?" Jim asked, his frown deepening. "What kinds of numbers?"

"They were simply numbers, nothing conclusive." Spock evaded. It wasn't a lie, because he hadn't come up with a conclusion on what the numbers meant. "But, the woman, she claimed to be death, and that she wanted to help me. Jim.. what could this dream mean?"

Jim sat for a moment, thinking hard, "I think it could be you trying to come to terms with your mothers death." When asked to elaborate, Jim said, "Well, you've come up with a physical manifestation of an abstract thought."

"Death is not abstract," Spock corrected, "Death is very real. I will experience it, as will you, as did one of both of our parents. As did and will many people. It's not abstract, just simply something we think of abstract."

Jim nodded, slowly, "I guess your right, but the fact still remains that you've come up, subconsciously, with a manifestation of death. You could be trying to understand why your mother died, and not you. Or, you know, you could be hoping that in some way you're not responsible." Jim looked down, then back up, "You do know that you are not responsible for her death, right?"

Spock didn't respond immediately, "Aren't I?" After that, he simply stood, grabbing his dishes, "Thank you for your help, Captain. Good day."

"Spock, wait," Jim said, hoping he would turn around but knowing he wouldn't.

Spock began to walk around the Enterprise, attempting to clear his now racing mind. Was it truly not his fault that his mother was dead? Had he been holding her hand, as he had moments before her death, she would still be alive, would she not? If he had brought her closer to him, forced his father to keep a hold on her, she would be alive. So, how could he not be blamed for her death.

It was two hours later that Spock found himself in the corridor that lead him to the medical bay. Noticing the emptiness of it, he leaned on the wall, clutching his head in the memory of his mother. The way she had looked at him, the fear in her eyes, the flailing of her arms as she reached for him as she fell to the crumbling planet below.

"Get him in here, right NOW!" McCoy's voice sounded, from medical bay, distracting him from his thoughts. He turned, walking to the doors of medical, looking in.

The medical staff, that weren't tending to other patients with semi-serious injuries, were crowded around one bed. There was only four staff, including McCoy, tending to one man, who appeared to be in the middle of a seizure. The numbers of everyone's heads were going about their normal pace, but the man on the bed, in the red shirt, his numbers were lowering faster. They reached lower than three hundred.

McCoy pulled up different hyposhots, machines, and various tricorders in hopes to help the man. But nothing was helping. Spock frowned, staring at the numbers; they were below one hundred now. McCoy shouted out more and more orders, before looking up.

Just as the number reached zero, his ECG line went flat. McCoy pulled out the line free defibrillator pads, and applied them.

"Clear!" McCoy shouted, the defibrillator pads shocked the man, causing his body to convulse. The numbers shook, but they didn't go up, in fact, they appeared to be fading. "Again, clear!" The pads shocked again, but nothing happened. The numbers were gone.

McCoy sighed, "Alright, I'm going to call it: Ensign Edmund Rudolph's time of death twelve sixteen pm."


	6. Chapter 6

**_And say it for me_**

**_Say it to me_**

**_And I'll leave this life behind me_**

**_Say it if it's worth saving me_**

Spock ran to the nearest empty room. Observation deck four, to be precise. He then did something very un-Vulcan. He backed into the nearest wall, put a hand over his mouth and screamed. He screamed for Ensign Rudolf, he screamed for his mother, for death... but most of all, he screamed for realization.

The numbers were a count down to your last moments. They were your time... how much of it you had left. That is what Enma had been trying to tell him, when she had mentioned how a persons time was up. She meant literally, when a persons time was up.

He had seen the exact moment Rudolf had died... the second. He knew the minute each person on this ship was due to die. Everyone; Jim, McCoy, Nyota, Pavel, Hikaru, Scotty. Himself, he was sure, would have a larger number...

He blinked, he hadn't even begun to think about himself. He hadn't looked in the mirror in the past two days. It just hadn't seemed important... But now... He was wasn't so sure he wanted to look in the mirror. If he knew the day, hour, minute he was going to die... he didn't know what he would do.

"Spock!" came a voice, just before the doors to the room opened. Jim Kirk ran in. "Spock, what's wrong?" He looked to his first officer, his eyes widening in shock at the state he was in. His hair was mussed, his face was pale, his eyes were blood shot and he was slouched.

"I-I..." Spock started, but hesitated. What if he told the Captain, that he saw a persons death down to the last second? No, he couldn't. "I'm not feeling well, Captain, please, forgive my appearance, but I feel the need to rest."

"Spock, wait, lets talk about this," Jim said, stopping him, "what happened?"

Spock looked to Jim, glancing above him. The numbers glared at him, tempting him with the knowledge of death and urging him to figure out the exact moment of Jim's death. Jim's death... It was something that he simply didn't want to attempt to fathom.

"Spock-" Jim started.

"Captain, I simply need to rest." He tore off to his room, exiting the observation deck.

* * *

When he'd finally reached his quarters, he paused. He didn't know if he actually wanted to do this, it was something that was supposed to be of total uncertainty. But, he couldn't help the curiosity. He trembled as he walked over to the door leading into the bathroom. It opened automatically, the swooshing sound causing him to flinch. He glanced to the mirror on the left side of the rather humble sized room.

Swallowing, he cautiously walked to the sink, closing his eyes, trying to steady himself. He took a breath. Opening them, he flinched. Visibly recoiling, he raised his hand to the air above his head.

The numbers weren't there.

Spock sat in his bed cross legged. He had no numbers above his head. Did this mean that he couldn't die? Did it simply mean that he was just not allowed to know? Enma had said that she would explain, but Spock did not know when he would see her again. Or how, for that matter. Would he have to sleep as the only means of being able to talk to her? And what was he to do should someone else die?

Even more, what would happen if-

"Oh, don't be some dramatic, Spock, I'm right here." He heard a voice, causing him to jerk from his mental battle, only to stare around the bed chamber.

Enma slowly appeared into the room, seeming like a shadow at first. Her chin length black hair was still flipped outward, but instead of the trench coat and black pants and vest, she was wearing a black dress. The dress only reached her mid thigh, causing a bit of her pale leg to show. Then, she wore a pair of black knee high boots, not ones that made her taller. She paired it with a black cloak hanging around her shoulders. Her eyes were the same blue from before, the ones that reminded him so much of James...

"You needed me?" She said, an eyebrow raised.

"I see death." He stated, simply allowing the words to sink in.

Enma nodded to him, a small smile playing on her elfin lips. "Yes, and now you know why I am here to guide you."


	7. Chapter 7

_**Title: Saving Me**_

**Pairing: Spock/Kirk, side Uhura/Scotty**

**Warnings: Slash, mano-a-mano, and prolly some far fetched ideas...**

AN: So, sorry for that little delay there before. I was kinda going through writers block... um sorry. There comes a time in every authors life when they hate what they are writing, and I hit it... twice... in the same week. Moving on, I am now confined to my home because of some severe pink eye (thank you anti-bodies) so I'm prolly going to be writing more. You're welcome.

* * *

_**Heaven's gates won't open up for me**_

_**With these broken wings I'm falling**_

_**And all I see is you**_

"I see death," he repeated to her, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.

"I see Vulcan," replied Enma, rolling her own eyes. "You sound like a broken record." She walked forward, turning on her heel gracefully and sat at the edge of the bed. She turned to him, his eyes down cast in thought. Sighing she reached out to his arm, "Spock, why don't I start from the beginning, hmm?"

Spock thought for a moment, before nodding, not trusting his voice.

"The moment that I died, I found myself standing next to my bed... and my body. It was a shock, but somehow not as scary as people would have thought. It was sort of comforting to know that my death was actually serene. And, I didn't know what to do, where to go. Back then we believed in the underworld, where there were seven different places to go after you died. But, I didn't really want to go there, or any other place really. I had no one, everyone whom I had loved had died and gone to their after life. So, I wandered. Time moves differently when you are dead. Hours to the dead are actually months and years. After felt like only ten years, I later found nearly three hundred had past. And after another three hundred I finally met another reaper."

Spock chose to not say anything while she was talking, though questions were forming in his head. What did she do during the time? Did she ever miss human contact? What was it like to wander around searching for someone like her?

"His name was Styx, appropriately, and he told me that I was both death and a conqueror of death. I was going to forever wander the universe, searching and seeking until I found the people whom I was supposed to reap for. The moment they were born I would be brought to them, and be given the list." She smiled, "I simply had to wait."

Spock raised a brow. "You had to wait nearly two and a half thousand years for your assignment?"

"Yes," she said, smiling proudly, "It wasn't as bad as you think, I just observed until my time was called." Enma leaned forward, "But now is the time to explain about you. You are-"

"Spock!" came a voice from out side his door. It was Jim.


	8. Chapter 8

**Title: Saving Me**

**Pairing: Spock/Kirk, side Uhura/Scotty**

**Warnings: Slash, mano-a-mano, and prolly some far fetched ideas...**

AN: So here is another! I'm trying to work up to this really really long freaking chapter about Spock and him getting something, then something else happening... trust me you'll like it. I've almost got the ending down, which will be heart breaking and sweet. So, here you go, another chapter...

* * *

_**These city walls ain't got no love for me**_

_**I'm on the ledge of the eighteenth story**_

_**and oh I scream for you**_

Spock jumped up. Annoyance was flaring through him. He turned to Enma, who still sat there calmly staring back at him. What was he going to do? He had death sitting in his room on his bed, and now Jim expected him to answer the door, after asking to be left alone?

"What am I, Enma?" he asked, but she shook her head.

"Spock! Please open the door, and just... Just open the door!" Jim shouted. Spock looked back at the door then back at Enma.

"What should I do?" He asked.

"Perhaps it would be best if you opened the door." She motioned to the door, encouraging him to open it.

"What am I to tell him about you? That you are death, and we are just sitting here have a nice conversation about how you died?" He asked almost hysterically, as Jim nearly pounded the door.

"Spock," Enma said calmly, "just open the door."

Reluctantly, Spock walked over to the door release, and with a final glance at Enma, opened the door. Jim stood there leaning against the door, hair disheveled, panting. He looked beautiful, at least to Spock.

"Yes?" Spock responded stiffly, still slightly annoyed at the intrusion.

"Okay, I've been nice, and I have been patient," Jim said, barging into the room, the door closing behind him, "I've tried talking and waiting, but none of that shit is working!" He turned back to Spock, who stood wide eyed, glancing between him, Enma, and the numbers still floating above his head. "You are now going to tell me what the hell is going on!"

Enma looked back to Spock, a small smile playing on her lips. "Well, Spock, are you going to answer him?"

Spock frowned, "Can't he...?" he gestured to Jim, attempting not to look too insane.

"Can't he what, Spock?" Jim asked, thoroughly confused.

"No, Spock he can't," Enma smiled full on, "No body can see, the only any body being you."

Spock nodded slightly, "You want answers?"

"Yes, God that's why I came here!" Jim said, exasperated, he threw his arms into the air, and sat down on the bed. Right next to Enma.

She turned her head, looking him up and down. "Gods he's hot!" She exclaimed, raising her hand to his chest, "oh the things I would do. Meow! I can see why you pine for him!" She grinned back to Spock.

Spock's lips twitched in amusement. "Then please answer me this: what am I?"

Enma smirked, "Oh you're good! Asking the question so that both of us will answer! Clever, clever!"

Jim's eyebrow shot up. "What are you? You're a Vulcan, Spock, and you're a human. I suppose we could call you a Hulcan... or a Vuman. I think I like Hulcan better."

Enma snorted, while Spock closed his eyes.

"Spock, you're what we in the reaping business call a Savior." She said. "You bring Salvation to those who's time is coming up short. You are to stop death."

"I see," Spock said, "I am a creature of both worlds then."

"Yes," Enma and Jim said together.

Spock grew quiet, looking down to the floor. He looked back up to Enma, her big blue eyes staring at him with understanding and acceptance. She nodded to him, before slowly fading into nothing. Jim still sat there, though, oblivious to the obvious silent sided conversation Spock was having with a creature that took souls for a living. Jim. The man he had loved for... well since he laid eyes on him really. The man who was his Captain, his friend, his mate... and now, his charge.

Spock was now charged with protecting Jim, the crew, and practically all of Star Fleet, if possible.

He was not too sure if he was going to like this.


	9. Chapter 9

**Title: Saving Me**

**Pairing: Spock/Kirk, side Uhura/Scotty**

**Warnings: Slash, mano-a-mano, and prolly some far fetched ideas...**

AN: Okay, so this took for-freakin EVER! OMG! I have word 55 hour weeks since before chrismas! Some one kill me! AHHHHHH! Okay, so I promise not to take that long any more! I can't promise when then next one will be up, but, I do promise that it will be up before March, so that's something! Huh? Right? Ahem... Reviews really motivate a girl... Just sayin...

* * *

_**Come please, I'm calling**_

_**And all I need from you**_

_**Hurry, I'm falling, I'm falling**_

It was several lies, and excuses, later that got Jim out of Spocks quarters. He couldn't quite figure out what Enma had meant when she said savior. He couldn't fathom why he was chosen. Perhaps it was a by product of being saved by a reaper personally. Or, maybe, he was chosen by something much more divine. He shook his head. When questioned, Enma had simply smiled and disappeared with a soft glow of her eyes.

He took personal leave for the following three days, before he was sure he could handle being on the bridge, near everyone and their numbers. He entered at the precise time he was due on the bridge. After relieving the skeleton crew Science Officer, he sat and began to monitor all frequencies surrounding the Enterprise. Noticing every time the bridge door opened, he had to force himself not to glance up. He honestly didn't want to see any of his friends with their numbers.

He had already calculated Jim's numbers four times. He was less than amused every time his numbers changed. And they did change, drastically. They had gone on an away mission the day before. His numbers calculated that he had twenty-seven minutes left to live. Spock nearly had a heart attack and had burnt a hole into the ground pacing until Jim had returned, numbers restored. Practically murderous with the idea that Jim had almost died Spock simply walked out, tears threatening to breach his iron barriers.

He didn't realize before. Jim was a death magnet. Near death experiences were practically part of the afternoon schedule for James T. Kirk. He couldn't let this control him. He couldn't.

"Mr. Spock," Jim's voice broke his thoughts, and memories, of the previous day.

"Yes, Captain," Spock said, turning to the man. His numbers were higher today. Thank goodness.

"Do you know the whereabouts of Lieutenant Uhura?" Jim said, motioning with his head to the empty chair at the communications station.

Glancing at the chair, Spock frowned, momentarily. "Negative, Captain, however, with you permission, I will attempt to locate her-"

"Captain," Uhura's voice sounded through the intercom.

Tilting his head at the timing, Jim smiled, "Yes, Lieutenant?"

"I am not feeling well today, I do apologize. I don't think I can come onto the bridge." Uhura responded, her voice as crisp as ever, if a little strained.

"Certainly, Lieutenant," Jim said, "however if this is anything contagious you will inform Doctor McCoy, won't you?"

"It isn't Captain," Uhura sighed, "but please don't worry, Doctor McCoy is already aware of the situation."

"Well, then I hope you feel better, Lieutenant Uhura," Jim said, turning away from Spock, who he had maintained eye contact with throughout the entire conversation.

"Thank you, Captain," Uhura replied, then proceeded to end the conversation.

The rest of the day carried on without much excitement. The Enterprise was ordered to the planet of Quinton, for a transfer of cargo to be brought back to the Milky Way. But, until they reached the planet, nothing big was expected to happen.

By the end of shift, Spock was ready for a bit of meditation. He stood, nodding to the evening crew members, and entered the lift next to Jim. Jim stood for just a moment, as the doors closed, then hit the stop button.

"Okay, Spock," Jim said, "let's talk."

"Can this not wait for meal time, Captain?"

"Don't 'Captain' me, Spock, this is not funny." Jim shouted.

"I do not find humor in this, James." Spock replied.

"No, you wouldn't, would you?" Jim said, pacing back and forth. "What is wrong, man? You avoid me and the rest of the crew for two days! You come out during an away mission, just to watch me go. You glare daggers at me as I beam to the surface, and when I get back up you look like you're so freaking happy to see me that you'll actually smile?" Jim motioned to Spock's face. "Then, you run to the safety of your room. I talked to Scotty. He said that you didn't leave the transporter room the entire time we were down there."

Spock looked away from Jim. "What is your point?"

"My point?" Jim shouted, "My point? My point is that we were down there for five and a half hours, Spock! What the hell is going on that you had to watch us leave, and come back, before you could go and rest and relax in your quarters?"

Spock was silent as he restarted the lift. It took mere seconds for it to reach the floor of the Bridge crew quarters. "Did it ever occur to you, James, that for me to rest and relax, I need to be absolutely sure you are safe and alive?" He whispered, soft enough for no one outside of the lift to hear, but Jim sure did. And with that said, Spock walked briskly away.

Jim stared after the Vulcan, shock clear on his face. "Well," he said to himself, "now we are getting somewhere."

* * *

_**Show me what it's like**_

_**To be the last one standing**_

_**Teach me wrong from right**_

_**And I'll show you what I can be**_

After some deep meditation, and a warm cup of tea, Spock was ready to venture out again. Although he couldn't understand why he had a sudden sense to leave his quarters, he simply started walking. He didn't go far, however, only reaching Uhura's room. His feet stopped, and he glanced around. There was no one else in the hallway. He looked to the door. Perhaps his mind was simply worried for Nyota and he wanted to see if her illness was getting any better. Pressing the call button, he waited patiently for a response.

Which didn't come. He pressed the button again. And waited. Then again, and waited. By the fourth time Spock was beginning to worry. He pressed the communication button.

"Nyota!" Spock practically shouted into the room. Releasing the button, he listened through the door, only to hear a large bang and a moan. 'No!' He thought, before activating the Commanders override code and entering her quarters.

Glancing around, he noted her bed was empty. He looked toward the bathroom door, which was only partially open. Frowning, he glanced down to the floor. Nyota was motionless and unconscious in only her underwear. Rushing to her side, he watched as her numbers dwindled. Panicked, and filled with adrenalin, he hoisted her up into his arms and rushed from the room.

Reaching the Sick Bay, he entered in less than a minute. "Help! McCoy, help!"

The room was immediately in motion as McCoy and his staff gently took Nyota to one of the cots and began to assess her. Pulling out tricorders and other instruments that Spock couldn't remember, they started treatment.

"Commander," a calm voice sounded beside him. He glanced over to Nurse Chapel. "We need you to go now. We'll call you when we're done."

Nodding, Spock turned and left.

After reaching his own quarters, he began to pace. How did he know to go check on Nyota? Why did he go in the first place? If he hadn't gone, how long would it have taken for someone to find her? Would she be dead by now? What had happened to her?

"Oi," a voice sounded behind him, causing him to start, "you think so loud, I could've shot you in the dark."

Enma sat on his bed. Her black hair swept into a braid, and she was now wearing a black shirt, a pair of black jeans, and some black tennis shoes. Her shirt had color on it, however, a flower was drawn and words were printed on it that read "Long Live the Rose that Rose from the Concrete". She smiled at him.

"What is happening, Enma?" He demanded.

"You're coming into your majority." She replied, patting the bed. He walked over and plopped ungracefully down. "Your powers as a savior are starting. You will instinctually know when someone apart of the Enterprise is about to die. You won't always be able to stop it, but you will know."

Spock frowned, "If I won't always to stop it, then what is the point of knowing?"

"Because sometimes it happens prematurely." Enma said, cryptically.

Spock sighed, putting his head into his hands. "But, what if-" He looked back up, only to find Enma had left. Great, now what?

The communicator sounded just then, and McCoy called him back to Sick Bay.

"You can see her now," McCoy said, motioning to the screen that shielded her from prying eyes.

"What was wrong?" Spock said, sounding tired to his own ears. McCoy eyed him thoroughly.

"I can't tell you without her permission, Spock, just know that she is stable and fine, now." McCoy responded, looking very annoyed at Spock's exhaustion.

Ignoring the man, however, Spock walked forward and pulled the curtain back slightly. Stepping through, then closing it he sat at the chair next to the bio bed.

Staring at Nyota, he took time to calculate her numbers, relieved that they were back in place. He picked up her hand, gently, before a flash of red caught his eye. Looking down her body, what he saw confused him.

There were numbers flashing just above Nyota's stomach. Frowning, he swiped his hand through them, only to have them reappear instantly. Was something wrong with Nyota's numbers? Numbers only appeared above the head's of living creatures, not their stomachs. Unless Nyota had a living creature in her-

Spock's eyes widened. Nyota was pregnant.


	10. Chapter 10

AN: So, I'm back. A little break from all the work and crap and I found some time to upload. I'm not exactly sure how I feel about the new settings, but we'll have to see how this goes, won't we? So, as always, please, R&R!

* * *

_**And say it for me, say it to me**_

_**And I'll leave this life behind me**_

_**Say it if it's worth saving me**_

_**Hurry, I'm falling**_

Spock stayed by Nyota until three in the morning. She didn't awaken, but it made him feel better. He walked cautiously back to his quarters, hoping nothing happened for at least the rest of the night.

By morning, he was exhausted, staying with Nyota, worrying over his new "gifts", as Enma liked to call them. He got up, showered, shaved, dressed, and ventured out. He could only hope that there was no away mission. He entered the mess hall.

As if fate was making a mockery of him, the first thing he noticed was Enma sitting next to McCoy. Spock felt his eye twitch. She looked up to him, waved and smiled. He glanced at McCoy's numbers. They were the same. What was she doing? He grabbed his food, walked over, and sat across from McCoy.

McCoy looked up from his data PADD. What in the hell was Spock doing sitting next to him? "Uhm, hi Spock. Can I help you?"

Spock glanced to the seat next to McCoy, "No, thank you, Doctor." He continued to eat.

Frowning, hard, McCoy looked to his left, there was nothing there, obviously, "So, what are you doing sitting next to me?"

Spock looked up, seeing Enma smiling at the conversation, his eye twitched again. "I am merely enjoying a meal with a fellow comrade. Am I not allowed to sit here?"

Shocked, McCoy's eyes widened slightly, "N-no, by all means, sit stay. We can talk… or whatever."

Nodding, Spock took another bite of fruit.

"I'm a little hurt you haven't even acknowledged me, Spock." Enma decided to say, probably knowing that if he answered, especially in front of McCoy, he'd look insane.

Clearing his throat, Spock nodded to the PADD, "What are you reading?"

"Just some medical articles. I'm hoping that I'll be able to isolate one of the virus's in the Winalden Disease that's plaguing the Croatoans." McCoy said, taking a bite of bacon. "Do you have any input?"

Enma smiled at what McCoy said as she leaned over to whisper in Spock's ear, "I need to talk to you."

"No," he replied, "not at the moment." Though it was a little forced and sounded annoyed.

McCoy frowned at the tone, "Excuse me, you asked what I was doing!"

"I apologize, Doctor, that came out a bit… harsher… than was intended. Please, forgive me." Spock said, feeling guilty. Enma was beginning to grate on his nerves and she most definitely wasn't helping him.

McCoy's face softened. He nodded, looking back at the article. Silence reigned between them, though it was comfortable. Both continued eating uninterrupted until Enma said, "Someone is going to die today."

His spoon fell from his hand, "What?"

McCoy raised his head, "I didn't say anything, Spock."

Looking from Enma to McCoy, Spock nodded, "I apologize again, Doctor. Excuse me."

Spock stood, grabbing Enma's hand, and stormed out of the mess hall, leaving behind a very concerned and confused Leonard.

Pulling her into the nearest empty room, a closet to be exact, Spock reared on her. "Is there a reason you could not have mentioned that when no one else was around?"

"Temper, temper." Emna scolded. "I'm only attempting to warn you of something that you won't be able to help."

"What do you mean?" Spock said, confused.

"I mean something is going to happen today, and you won't be able to stop it." Enma said, looking around the room. "Someone is going to die. You can't do anything foolish, because if you do it will end badly. You just have to accept it."

"Why are you telling me this, if it is not to help?" Spock asked, eyeing her up and down. She was wearing a simple black dress with thick straps and a black onyx bracelet.

"Oh it is to help, but only for you." She said, patting him on the shoulder before disappearing with a soft glow of the eyes.

* * *

_**And all I need is you**_

_**Come please I'm calling**_

_**And, oh, I scream for you**_

_**Hurry, I'm falling, I'm falling**_

Spock had left the closet, receiving a few confused glanced when he emerged, and reached the bridge without issue. He had already been working for almost four hours when he felt it. A tingling on the back of his neck. Something, in his mind, was urging him to stand.

He didn't even contemplate, he simply stood. He glanced around bridge, no one had really noticed he stood, and saw that all of their numbers were normal. He looked to Jim, his were normal too. The tingling was a little tighter to the left, so he walked toward the left, still glancing around him.

"Spock," he heard a voice behind him, and turned to see Jim looking at him from his chair. "Where are you going?"

The tingling was getting stronger, making his head ache and his brow twitch. He opened his mouth to answer when he felt a pinch on his arm. Glancing beside him, he saw Enma standing there with a frown on her face.

"It's going to happen soon. You know it. I know you do, and I know you can feel where it is coming from." She said, pushing her bangs from her face. "Don't try to stop it. You'll only make it worse."

"Spock," Jim said again. Standing to go to his friend, he glanced to where Spock had turned his head. There was nothing there, and while this confused him, he was more worried as to where Spock was going.

Spock had been acting strange, especially since Compass IX. He had been seen talking to himself, staring off into space, and then there was the episode with the away mission. All in all, Spock was not acting himself.

Like right now, Spock simply looked at Jim, frowning for a moment then turned and left the bridge. This shocked all of the present crew. He had ignored a direct question from the Captain. This… was not normal.

"Sulu, you have the conn." Jim snapped as he chased after Spock.

He caught up with Spock standing at a cross hallway, looking left and right, as if trying to decide which way to turn. Spock tilted his head from left to right, appearing to judge something.

"Do you wanna explain exactly what the fuck that was all about, Mr. Spock?" Jim yelled as soon as he got near enough.

"Captain, as frightful as you may seem to the Ensigns, you do not scare me. I suggest you watch what you say, for I am in no mood to listen to you throw a temper tantrum at the moment." Spock said, attempting to judge the tingling. It was leaning more right, it seemed, so he turned right.

"Excuse me, but I believe I am trying to speak to my first officer, not some arrogant Vulcan," Jim shouted, grabbing Spock's arm roughly, and forcing the other to face him.

Glaring down at the shorter man, Spock growled out, "And I believe I am attempting to figure out which of our crew members is about to _die_. So if you will _excuse me, _Captain."

Dislodging himself from the blonde, Spock stormed away.

Jim stared at him in shock for a fraction of a second. Shaking his head, he hurried after Spock. He found him in Engineering. Spock was glancing around, staring at all of the crew members, as if attempting to see through to their very bones.

"What in the blue hell are you talking about, Spock?" Jim said. "No one is about to die."

Spock didn't even spare him a glance, as he walked through the isles, just looking at the crew members. None of their numbers were lowering. He needed to find this person fast if he was going to have a chance at saving them.

That's when he heard it, a crash. Looking behind him, he saw two ensigns attempting to hold a coil from falling. Their numbers weren't plummeting, so who was going to get hurt?

"Spock, we need to get out of here." Jim said, causing Spock to glance at him.

What Spock saw made his heart drop to his feet. Jim's numbers were to mere seconds.

With only a moment to react, time seemed to slow down for Spock. The coil snapped, getting ripped from the ensign's arms. Spock grabbed the front of Jim's uniform, pulling him back and into safety. Knocking back into a wall, they both watched as two red shirted ensigns were thrown back by the force of the flying coil. Their numbers were gone before they hit the ground.


	11. Chapter 11

Title: Saving Me

Pairing: Spock/Kirk, side Uhura/Scotty

Warnings: Slash, mano-a-mano, and prolly some far fetched ideas..

AN: So, here is me... again. I have no idea where the hell this is going now... I know, bad author, bad! But, hey, it'll be fun while it lasts! Please do not forget to R&R!

* * *

**_Show me what it's like_**

**_ To be the last one standing_**

If someone had told Jim a week ago that Spock would end up in Med Lab Observation room three, he would've laughed in their faces. Now, he wasn't so sure. Watching Spock pace up and down the length of the room from the one sided mirror, he pondered what could have happened to cause Spock to be this way. It had all started with that near miss with the hover car and had only began to escalade. Now, here Spock was, going about trying to find people who were supposedly about to die. Jim couldn't help but feel that if Spock hadn't been in the room when the coils had fallen, they wouldn't have lost two men.

"Any change in demeanor?" Came a voice behind him. Jim turned and saw Bones. With a shake of the head, Jim turned back to the room and continued to observe.

Inside the room, Spock was restless. What had he done? Why had he done that? He just _had_ to go and find the person who was supposed to die, didn't he? He just _had_ to try and stop it. If he had listened to Enma, none of this would have happened. But, then again, if Enma hadn't shown up to warn him, he might not have left the Bridge in the first place. But, no, that wasn't right. He had felt the tingling in his neck and, he was sure, he would've felt it whether she had said something or not.

He knew Jim, and most likely McCoy, were behind the mirror. Therefore, he couldn't call out to Enma for help. That would force him to talk to someone whom only he could see. Or, perhaps not. She had first visited him in a dream. Perhaps if he laid down and went to sleep, she would appear again. And, they would never know he was dreaming of her.

"Good idea in theory, but you actually end up talking in your sleep when ever I pop into them," Enma said from a top the desk that was in the observation room. He jerked towards her, involuntarily. "Hiya, handsome."

From behind the glass, Jim noticed the jerk. What in the hell?

Spock glanced at the glass, he turned to the desk, _Can you hear what I am thinking?_

"Of course," Enma smiled, "Death has no limit when it comes to mortals. We hear what is needed, when needed."

Carefully, so as not to bring to much attention to the desk, Spock sat down on the bed. _What am I going to do, Enma?_

"What you have been doing, attempting to save people." Enma replied, standing on her feet. She smoothed her black jeans. "Spock, are you wondering why the two men died?"

_Yes. If I had not left, they would still be alive, wouldn't they?_

"Sadly," Enma said, hesitating, and Spock felt his stomach sink, "no. They were meant to die, during that accident. It was guarenteed. You actually saved Jim, and that's saying something, considering how often I have to keep an eye on him."

_Then, why did you say it would end in disaster?_ Confusion rippled from Spocks core.

"Who's to say it has already ended?" Enma said, looking at the glass with ample curiosity.

_What does that mean?_ Spock could feel a frown forming.

"Because, while you may be thinking your thoughts to me, your facial expression has changed, as though you are still speaking during a conversation." She looked back at Spock, who was now staring at the mirror in slight horror. "This is how it is going to end in disaster."

Just as Enma finished the sentence, the door to the room opened, revealing a very concerned McCoy and Jim.


	12. Chapter 12

_****_AN: OMG! I'm still alive. If anyone has been following my Jerk to Bitch fic, you know I'm still here, but if you haven't... Well, I'm still here! I'm soooo sorry for the long awaited update! I just have a lot on my mind! Also I'm moving! YAY! So, here you go! It's pretty loooong, please don't forget to R&R!

* * *

_**Teach me wrong from right**_

__**_And I'll show you what I can be_**

"So," McCoy started, sitting down on one of the chairs, pulling out a PADD. "How are you feeling, Spock?"

Jim sat next to McCoy. He could tell something was wrong with Spock, from the way he glancing between himself, McCoy and the air beside him. Was Spock seeing someone who wasn't there? Was schizophrenia a common disorder on Vulcan? Jim seriously doubted that, though, because seeing people who weren't really there was kind of illogical.

"I am feeling well, Doctor." Spock said, his face not revealing anything. "And, yourself?"

"Just dandy," McCoy replied, glancing through his notes. "So, you wanna explain exactly what happened today?"

Spock glanced to Jim, then to McCoy. He didn't know what to tell them. How do you explain that you talked to Death on a regular basis? That she frequently visited his dreams, giving him advice on things he couldn't truly begin to understand. How do you explain that you knew the second that they were going to die? How do you explain that the numbers were literally flashing before his eyes like some sort of Terran beer sign? How do you explain it you ask?

"You don't," Enma had responded when she heard this thought. "Don't tell them anything, Spock. They will not believe you. They can't. It is a part of mortality. You don't even really understand it." She put a hand over his. Her skin was like ice, cold, as death.

Taking a deep breath of understanding, Spock replied. "No."

The answer was obviously not what either of the other two men were expecting. Both sets of eyes shot to him. "I beg your pardon." McCoy responded.

"No," Spock repeated. "The truth is very difficult to understand, Doctor, and, at the moment, I'm... tired. So, no, I do not want to 'explain what happened'."

McCoy looked angry, as did Jim, both clearly desiring answers that Spock simply would not give. "Spock, if you don't start talking, I'm afraid I'm going to have to put you on an undermined amount of leave until you do."

Spock, internally, froze. Leave?

"Don't give in, Spock." Enma said, "They'll have to do better. Fate won't let you leave this ship, trust me."

Spock nodded once, to the woman, though it appeared to be nodding to McCoy. "I understand. If that be the case, put me on leave." This earned him shocked expressions. "I assume I will have to come here everyday for therapy sessions to get to 'the root of the problem'?" At the speechless nods, he continued, "And, of course, to see the Captain for counseling on my decision." Another wide eyed nod, "Understood. Then, I will see you tomorrow, Doctor, Captain."

Spock stood, and without another word, left the room.

The next day, he appeared in the doorway of Doctor McCoy. McCoy was appearing to file paperwork on something and hadn't noticed him. Spock closed his eyes. Enma had told him this was the best course of action. She told him not to disclose anything about her, or the situation. She had said that yesterday would end in disaster. And she was right. He would be guaranteed a discharge if he spoke of what had happened. He simply had to wait. She told him to wait. That all would eventually work out. He was to wait.

He hated Enma.

"Oh, Spock, you're here." McCoy looked up. He motioned to the chair in front of him.

The door shut behind Spock, as he entered the room, with a whoosh.

"Why didn't you tell me you were standing there?" McCoy asked.

"You appeared busy," Spock said, sitting.

McCoy nodded, "Well, lets get started," he pulled out a different PADD, "computer, begin recording." The computer chirped in confirmation. "Alright Spock, you are on medical leave until we get to understanding what has been happening. You have a mandatory three sessions, in which you need to attend." At Spocks nod, McCoy continued, "Alright, so do you wanna tell me what happened yesterday?"

Spock lifted an eyebrow, and blinked.

"Is that a no?"

Sill, Spock said nothing. McCoy drew an aggravated sigh. "Alright, let's talk about something else. How do you like being commander?"

"It is, fruitful in knowledge, and gaining in friendship." Spock responded, willing to speak of anything that didn't involve death. "I enjoy my time on this ship."

McCoy nodded, writing on his PADD. "How do you feel about Jim, now that you aren't wringing his throat?" McCoy smirked.

"The Captain is... intelligent. More so than he lets on. He is also very charismatic," Spock continued, "which allows for easy diplomatic sessions. Argumentatively, he is also very rash and head strong. He runs into situations without thinking things over, and while the majority of outcomes have been positive, I believe that, one day, his rashness will not allow for such luck, and he will most likely not survive."

"Are you concerned for him?" McCoy asked.

"As concerned as any commander should, I suppose," Spock said, denying to more himself than McCoy that he felt anything more.

McCoy twiddled with his pen, "You're sure about that?"

"Yes." Came a definitive answer.

"Well, to tell you the truth, Spock, I ain't buying what you're selling?"

Spock blinked, "I beg your pardon."

McCoy grinned. "I think you have feelings for Jim."

Spock felt his eyes widen, slightly. McCoy smirked. "Do you?"

Spock glanced to his hands, "I feel many things for Jim, Doctor."

"Is lust or love some of them?"

Spock's eyes closed, but he wouldn't lie to Leonard. "Yes, I am in love with Jim."

"Wow, congratulations, Spock, you just broke through some denial." McCoy smiled at him, though it wasn't condescending. Spock glared. "Lets talk about something else." He pulled out a different PADD, "What happened the day you were almost killed by the vehicle?"

Spock pulled in a deep breath, "Jim and I were attempting to reach a botany shoppe, when he claimed he needed to relieve himself. I urged him to go and to meet me at the original destination." He paused, remembering that day. Had it really only been a week ago? "After making my purchases, I exited the shoppe, expecting to see the Captain. He, of course, was no where to be found. I comm'd him, only to find he was four blocks south. Agreeing to meet him there, I began to step off of the corner. I was pulled back by someone," _Enma_, he thought, "just as a hover craft was driving by." He paused again, the memory so clear in his head. The sudden jerk of his body, as Enma pulled him back. The pure ice of her finger tips, that he hadn't noticed at the time, chilling him to the bone. The absolute terror at the realization that if she hadn't done that, something as mundane a being hit by a hover craft would have been his demise.

In a way, he was forever grateful to Enma. She had ensured that he survived, allowed him more time, with his crew and with Jim. She had saved him. But, by touching him, she had also cursed him.

"Who saved you?" McCoy asked, seeing the distant look in his eye.

Spock shook his head, "When I turned to thank who had helped me, no one was standing there. It may be safe to assume it was a good samaritan." He wasn't technically lying.

"Who do you think it was?" McCoy asked, going out on a limb. Maybe whoever it was, Spock was imagining and this was who he was seeing, McCoy thought. Perhaps he, Spock, was going through some post traumatic stress thing, and he was seeing... his mother? Or, someone else, to help cope.

Sensing what the doctor was attempting to do, Spock answered sharply, "Perhaps it was my mother, or fate, or the old woman walking by. Perhaps, _Doctor,"_ he practically spat, "there are just somethings mortals are not meant to understand." He glanced at the clock behind McCoy. The hour had well passed. "I believe our session is finished. I will see you tomorrow."

He stood, ignoring a sputtering McCoy, and stormed from the room. Well, as much as any Vulcan could storm.

* * *

After eating lunch, Spock found himself outside of the Captains quarters. Enma had made her routine visit during lunch encouraging him to stay on track the way he was. He nearly throttled her. However, taking a deep breath, he pressed the comm button next to the door, and was answered when it opened to reveal the man he loved.

"Spock," Jim chirped. "Right on time, as usual." He motioned for Spock to enter and to sit on the chair. "I thought we could play some chess." Spock noted that the board was already set up.

"Certainly, Captain," Spock said, sitting. He looked at the board, his pieces were white. Odd, Jim always insisted that _he_ be white. Choosing not to comment, however, he made the first move. Pawn to e-4.

Jim smiled, "So, what made you decide that you wanted to be put on leave?" Countering Spock, he moved his pawn to e-7. He looked at Spocks handsome face. Spock was looking just above Jim's head. "Your move."

"I am aware, Jim," Spock said, moving his knight to f-3, without even looking down.

Jim frowned at the board. Spock normally moved pawn to d-2 following the e-4 move. He moved his knight to c-6. "Are you going to answer my question, Spock?"

"I believe it was yours and Doctor McCoys decision, I simply chose not to fight it." He moved his pawn to h-2.

"Are you going to tell us what's going on in that smart head of yours?" Bishop to c-5. He stared at Spock.

"Attempting to compliment the answers from me will not work, Jim," he responded, moving his knight to d-4, next to the black bishop. He knew Jim was too busy questioning him to pay attention when his next move was to take Spock pawn at e-4. Ameture's mistake. Spock moved his queen to g-4.

Glancing up, he saw that Jim was staring at his face. "What happened, Spock? Really happened?" Jim said, glancing back down at the board. Ignoring Spock's queen, he proved his carelessness with the taking of Spock's pawn with his knight. "I thought you loved your job, so much that nothing could distract you from doing your duty. Doing what came naturally to you," he looked back up, searching the emotionless face.

The answer to both the result of the game, and his Captains question were almost identical. Without responding, Spock moved his queen to take the corresponding pawn Jim had taken moments ago. Jim, seeing this, and how close Spock was to checkmate, moved his rook to protect his king. Not bothering to answer using words, Spock proceeded to take Jim's initial pawn at e-7.

_Check_, although it does not need to be said.

Jim moved his bishop, back, in front of the king. Spock closed his eyes, it was almost too easy. "Captain... Jim," Spock said, standing and then kneeling next to him, "what has happened to me has no ill baring on my duty as Commander. My duty is to ensure the lives of not only this vessels Captain, but her crew members as well. What has happened is a gift, and a curse. My job was easy," Spock said, searching the perfect blue eyes before him, "it entailed no true hardships, other than what was expected from me. What has happened has given me a true purpose on this ship," he realized he almost couldn't believe he was saying this, but also that he meant every word. "I'm asking you, Jim, as a friend, release me from leave. I know it does not make sense, but I am doing my duty. Even if you don't understand, I truly am."

Jim almost couldn't believe his ears. Spock believe he had a better purpose. He couldn't stop Spock from what was happening, but if could help him, he knew he would. "Alright, Spock, I'll release you from leave. As long as you go to the other two sessions with Bones."

Spock nodded in agreement, before moving his knight to f-6. "Checkmate." He said, before standing and leaving the Captains quarters and a shocked Captain


	13. Chapter 13

To the fans of The Rainbow (formally known as Lynn),

On July 21st, Lynn was in a two car accident involving an extremely inebriated driver and herself. While the drunk driver and his four passengers were unharmed, Lynn was rushed to the hospital, for her injuries, where she remained in a drug induced coma for four days. She recently began to ask me to post something on her fanfiction account informing her readers that she was alive, healthy (sort of) and upon her release would be updating as soon as possible.

Please keep her health and happiness in your thoughts and prayers.

Sincerely,

Her fiancée (AKA Jesse)

PS: she is allowed to check her email once a day, so please PM(?) her if you have any well wishes you desire to convey. I assume that means Private Message. She thinks of everyone at this site often and asks me to check on her fics every day. I'm not sure what I'm supposed to be checking, so if everyone could help and assure her, I'm sure she would be most appreciative.


End file.
